


Master and Student (Have to Save the World)

by danceswithhamsters01



Series: Reddit Prompts [55]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Duncan survived, Fifth Blight (Dragon Age), Gen, Grey Wardens, Non-Graphic Violence, What-If
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-09
Updated: 2019-06-09
Packaged: 2020-04-23 15:23:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19153729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithhamsters01/pseuds/danceswithhamsters01
Summary: Based on a prompt from r/dragonage.Prompt 4: What If Duncan survived Ostagar and Alistair died, with Duncan joining you in the adventures your Warden goes through?Sevarra and Duncan start out on their mission to end the Blight...





	Master and Student (Have to Save the World)

“Ah, you finally awaken. Mother shall be pleased.”

“You… you’re that mage we met in the Wilds,” the Warden wheezed as she sat up from the cot she found herself in.

The apostate gave a nod, golden eyes seeming to glimmer briefly in approval at being recognized. “I am Morrigan. Mother found you and brought you here after the battle, where we’ve been tending your wounds. You are in the Wilds.”

The Warden furrowed her brows in thought. She’d been in the tower, with Alistair. They’d lit the beacon. Where was he? “Were there any others? There was a man with me in the tower. Well, several of them, but this particular one was a Grey Warden. Tall, muscle-bound, tan, strawberry hair, a penchant for cheesy jokes?”

Morrigan looked away. “The man who was to respond to your signal quit the field. The darkspawn won your battle. T’would be best that you spoke with Mother. She waits outside. Your things are in the trunk.”

Sevarra felt her gut sink. _The king, the army, the other Wardens… had it all been for nothing?_ She wobbled to her feet and began pulling on her gear. Finally dressed, she grabbed her staff and leaned on it as she limped out of the hut.

“As promised, here is your mage, Warden,” an elderly woman’s voice said.

The tall, battle-hardened man with mahogany skin and darker eyes turned to regard the young Warden. _Duncan! He’d survived?!_

“Where is the other one?” he asked. “A young man, a warrior, hazel eyes--”

“I am sorry. There was nothing to be done. He’d already perished by the time I found them. She was minutes from slipping away herself,” the crone answered.

 _Dead? Alistair was dead? Maker, no… please!_ A memory came to the younger Warden’s mind’s eye. The beacon was lit, she was investigating the ogre’s corpse, utterly enthralled and marveling at the specimen as she studied it. Then the tingle in her mind of more darkspawn drawing closer and closer. An arrow struck her in the shoulder. Eye-watering pain. Alistair shouting and diving to shield her, his shield taking as many bolts as possible before breaking. And then… he hadn’t let her up, the stubborn man. The arrows had…

A sob escaped her throat. _If I hadn’t been so stupid, he’d still be alive! First Lily, then Jowan, and now Alistair. Who else will I let down?_

“I… see,” Duncan said, looking away. “I thank you.”

After speaking with the crone, who turned out to be a Witch of the Wilds and getting what information they could, the pair of Wardens took their leave of the small hut and the Kocari Wilds. They walked in silence until nightfall, where they made camp at the forest’s edge.

“I’m sorry,” Sevarra said as she stared down at her boots as they sat by the campfire.

The Warden-Commander arched a brow. “Whatever for?”

“For not saving him.”

He sighed and ran a hand over his hair. “Death is ever a constant companion for Wardens. Alistair knew it would come for him one day, as it will for us all, eventually. It could be tomorrow, it could be decades from now.”

“I should’ve… I could’ve… What good is my magic if I can’t save people?! What good am I?” Her hands balled into fists before unfurling and covering her face.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. He stood up. “Warden Amell,” he said in a sharp tone, “pull yourself together. You do not have the luxury of time to waste on doubt and self-loathing. We are in a Blight and must focus on stopping it, no matter the cost!”

She shivered at his rebuke and winced, making herself as small as possible where she sat. She looked startled, a bit frightened, but appeared to no longer have her mind in a pit of her own making.

He sat down and continued in a gentler voice. “There will be a time for mourning later. But our attention must always first be on the living. We can still help them, unlike the departed.”

 

**

 

The last of the darkspawn lay in frozen pieces. A band of hurlocks led by an alpha had surprised them on the road leading northward to Lothering. The oddest thing about it? It looked as if the darkspawn had been chasing a mabari. The Warden sheathed his weapons while the mage knelt with a hand stretched out toward the hound. A small chuckle and a smile escaped her.

“You. You’re that dog I helped at Ostagar, aren’t you?” she crooned at the beast. “They didn’t hurt you, did they?”

The mabari wagged his stumpy tail, clearly relishing the attention being lavished on him. She sat there scratching his ears while cooing over the beast, oblivious to their surroundings. Duncan busied himself with checking the corpses for anything of use. He narrowed his eyes. Why could he sense the hound like he could sense his recruit? Had it been tainted? He shook his head and stowed away what little coin and useful items he found.

“It would seem you’ve made a friend,” he said as he drew near.

“The kennel master back in Ostagar told me he’d gotten sick after the darkspawn attack that killed his master,” she answered. “We found some herbs for him to make medicine while we were in the Wilds collecting darkspawn blood. It appears that he got treated in time.”

He smirked. _A four-legged Warden?_ Stories about them all lauded the supposed intelligence of mabari hounds. He’d certainly seen how effective and deadly the team of master and hound could be during that ill-fated battle at Ostagar.There could be worse things than taking the beast with them.

“Can we take him with us?” she asked.

“I don’t think we get a say in that. It appears he’s already decided on it, himself. Mabari go where their masters go, and he’s picked a new mistress. It’s likely that he remembers that you helped him and went searching for you.”

She grinned and rose to follow Duncan down the path, dog in tow. “I’ve never had an animal before. They didn’t let any apprentices in the Circle keep one after the dragonling incident.”

He arched a brow. “Dragonling incident?”

She patted the dog and replied as if talking about the weather. “Enchanter Dupree found a dragon egg on one of his expeditions and brought it back to the Circle. He managed to keep it warm and it hatched. I was just a little girl at the time, so I don’t remember much of it. Apparently, it ate him after a few months. I’m told the templars had a devil of a time disposing of the creature. It also made them forbid any further pets. Other than the tower mousers, of course, but those really weren’t anyone’s pet.”

The Commander shook his head. _Mages._

 

**

 

She was angry. After surviving wounds that should’ve been fatal, and then trekking from the Wilds all the way to this place, she just wanted to enjoy her first ale during her first ever visit to a tavern in peace. The Circle made its own wines and other spirits, but they’d never let the apprentices have any ale. She’d wanted to try one. Her mug sat untouched on the counter near her. Somehow, she found it hard to drink with a sword pointed at her throat. Fang, her newly-named mabari, snarled at the man pointing the blade.

“Well, look what we have here. I think we’ve just been blessed,” the blade’s wielder spoke.

“Didn’t we spend all morning asking about a woman by this very description? And everyone said they hadn’t seen one?” his companion asked.

“It seems we were lied to,” the man with the blade glared. “If I had to guess, she’s a witch, too. Look at her eyes.”

“So you believe every old wives tale you hear? Good to know, you’re an idiot AND a brute,” the mage said with more steel in her voice than she felt in her belly. “My dog and I are just passing through. Travelers do get thirsty now and then. But if this is how you lot welcome strangers with coin to spend, I’ll tell everyone I know to avoid Lothering.”

The bartender shot a withering glare at the soldiers and disappeared into the kitchen.

“I bet your mother would be **so** proud of you,” Sevarra said. “Threatening an innocent woman with a weapon while she’s minding her business. Yes, yes, _such_ bravery, _such_ valor. What _ever_ would the kingdom do without fine men of your _caliber_ , hm?” Sarcasm dripped from her words.

The soldier holding the sword at her neck snarled and made to move, but a dagger with its point pricking his neck ever so gently made him reconsider the action. “Wh-what’s the meaning of this?!” the man sputtered.

“Hm. Perhaps I find the idea of two men against one lady offensive,” Duncan said quietly. “Or perhaps you’re sticking your nose into affairs that are none of your concern. Either way, you _will_ leave her alone.”

“That’s no innocent woman, stranger. That’s a Grey Warden and she’s wanted for treason! She and her kind killed the king!”

A woman with hair the color of flames and wearing the garb of a Chantry Sister rushed up to put herself between the parties whose argument looked moments from turning into a bloody fight. “Gentlemen! Surely there is no need for trouble! This is no doubt simply one more poor soul seeking refuge.”

“She’s more than that! Stay out of our way or you’ll get the same as this traitor, Sister!” the soldier’s companion barked.

A dagger pommel smashed down on to the head of the soldier who’d been held at knife-point moments before, knocking him senseless, sending him and his weapon clattering to the floor. The man’s companion called for help. Four men in armor who’d been playing cards at a corner table rose up to join him.

“Take the Warden into custody! Kill anyone who gets in the way!”

Sevarra sighed raggedly and grabbed her staff. Between her, Duncan, and the Chantry Sister, 2 of the men were stabbed, 2 more frozen in place: one by ice and the other trapped by a rune on the floor; and one had been blasted out the tavern’s window by way of a Stonefist spell. The mage tiptoed around the dead or otherwise incapacitated soldiers to find the one who’d threatened her. Finding her target, she snarled and lashed out with a savage kick aimed at his groin. She was glad that she’d been given steel-toed boots. The man woke with a high pitched yelp.

“I-I-I surrender!” the soldier whimpered after finding enough air to speak.

“Good, they’ve learned their lesson and we can all stop fighting now,” the Sister said as she wiped off one of her blades and stowed it away.

Sevarra side-eyed the Sister, then turned her attention to her victim. “We Grey Wardens didn’t kill the king. Loghain betrayed him.”

“I was there! The Teyrn pulled us out of a trap!” the man shot back.

“Liar! The beacon was lit but his forces were nowhere to be found!” Energy crackled in her right fist ominously.

A hand came down to rest on her shoulder. “Enough,” Duncan said and then turned to the soldier. “You will take a message to Loghain.”

“Wh-what do you want me to tell him?”

“The Grey Wardens know what really happened.”

The soldier and his surviving companion all but ran out of the tavern in fear, lest the mage or her colleague changed their minds about letting them live. The pair of Wardens and their canine made to leave when the Sister came rushing up, calling out to them.

“Wait! Let me introduce myself! I am Leliana, one of the lay sisters at the chantry here in Lothering. Or I was. Those men said you were a Grey Warden,” she said, looking at the mage.

“Actually, we both are. Wardens, that is. And the dog, too. Sort of,” Sevarra answered.

The Sister smiled. “I know after what happened, you’ll need all the help you can get. That’s why I’m coming along.”

“We will need help, that’s true,” Duncan rumbled.

“That and the Maker wants me to go with you.” Leliana beamed.

Sevarra arched a brow, wondering if she’d misheard. “Can you... elaborate on that?”

Out tumbled a story about a dream or a vision. The mage wasn’t sure which, as she was pretty sure her brain had crashed to a halt and stopped listening after hearing the woman claim that the Maker sent the vision. _Nonsense! Everyone knows that the Maker doesn’t speak to mortals!_

“Oh, that is grand! Let me get my things!” the redhead smiled and took off for a room.

The Warden mage blinked in confusion, clearly having lost track of the conversation that’d went on without her. “Uhm… Commander? Are we really taking Sister Stabbity the Insane with us?”

“Her name is Leliana, do not be rude. And we need all the help we can get.”

The mage nervously edged closer to the mabari. _What have I gotten into?!_


End file.
